


Battle Cry

by go_back_to_sleep (DeadAngel_DoNotEat)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Father/Son Incest, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Oblivious, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega, One-Sided Attraction, Punk Rock, School, Sexism, Underage Rape/Non-con, Unrequited Crush, You Have Been Warned, gay omega, rock - Freeform, step-father/step-son incest, strong omega characters, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-13 18:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18474610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadAngel_DoNotEat/pseuds/go_back_to_sleep
Summary: Asa hangs from the windowsill, a panicked look down tells him he's high up and not much else. The door knob gives a final rattle and clicks. Slow footsteps enter the bedroom and he tries not to let out a whimper. He has to let go. He has to let go before -A smiling face appears above him."Hello, Asa."...Asa is thirteen, and his dream is to become a rock star.





	1. A message between his finger and thumb

**Author's Note:**

> Present tense is often criticised for trapping the reader in the moment. But that is my intention, especially in the more urgent scenes. The terrifying feeling of not being able to escape what is happening..  
> Yes, present tense works well with those.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don't need no education  
> We don't need no thought control  
> No dark sarcasm in the classroom  
> Teacher, leave them kids alone
> 
> Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone
> 
> All in all it's just another brick in the wall  
> All in all you're just another brick in the wall
> 
> \- Another brick in the wall Part 2 // Pink Floyd

“ - The third sex, omegas, are what we’d call hermaphrodites. Their male organs are similar to that of a beta male’s, but their vagina differs from a female’s.”

“Yeah, we know. They take it up the ass.”

Asa grits his teeth audibly and doesn’t look up from his paper. There’s a long suffering sigh from the teacher and a smattering of snickers from the students.

“That is partly correct, Mr Wood. If you look at this picture, you’ll notice how the omega’s vaginal entrance is an inch or so within the rectum, parting from the colon. It is usually flattened tight to avoid infection, but will open and bloat to block entrance to the colon during heat and arousal. Now I’m sure you know what a heat is -“

“It’s when -“

“It differs from the menstrual cycle of beta females, and is called an oestrous cycle.”

While he tries to block out everything said in the class, Asa can’t help but silently thank her for preventing another of Wood’s vulgar interjections. But he knows he won’t appreciate what she’s saying for long.

“While it’s much farther apart than a beta female’s cycle, an omega’s heat is far more.. distracting for them and for alphas near them. During this time, an omega’s mind is particularly addled and his body weakened. Scent blockers aren't enough to block the pheromones during heat, so this is a dangerous time for omegas and he must be taken care of.”

There’s a wet sound and another bout of sniggers. Asa resolutely stares at his paper. There are scribbles and a few words written on them.

 _Fire. The word “Inaction” scribbled out. Sheep. Da Vinci._  
_You can’t tie me down. I’ll set fire to myself to burn these ropes._  
_Ropes.. Hopes?_

Ms Haisley seems to have carried on while he successfully distracted himself. But again, her words penetrate his wilful disregard. “ - Due to these biological differences and their rarity, omegas are the most delicate of sexes and must be protected. It’s in their nature to submit, like it’s in an alpha’s nature to lead.”

There’s an audible snap as the lead of his pencil breaks against his paper. It unfortunately draws the teacher’s attention to him.

“Mr Cavendish? Are you listening?”

And just like that, he snaps. There’s a crash and a collective gasp as Asa stands up, toppling his chair and almost flipping his desk.

“Fucking listen to What?! How I’m weak? How I should bend over and get rammed up the bloody shitter like a bitch because I’m omega? You want me to fucking listen to that load of shite? Do I look like a meek little follower to you now?! Fuck Off!!”

Asa practically screams. The young teacher actually flinches a little as he roughly picks up his bag and storms away, and damn it all but it feels good.

“You - Mister Asa Cavendish, you Will get detention for this!” He hears her yell before he slams the door behind him.

 

————————

 

Oppositional Defiant Disorder. It’s one of the labels they slapped on him. Now, simmering down from the outburst and walking towards home, Asa feels worried. They’ll tell mum. What if they put him on medication again?  
He sighs and kicks a stray rock on the ground. It’s unfair. The world is unfair, and he is right to be angry. Right to be defiant. Yet they call it a disorder.

When he finally arrives home, Asa’s mood is not improved upon being greeted by the smug smile of his stepfather. Stephan had been decidedly creepy towards him since mum first introduced him. Often standing too close, touches lingering for too long.. he’s almost certain that the creep scented him on more than one occasion. But Asa’s animosity was simply attributed to his usual behavioural issues, and his protests fell on deaf ears. His adoptive mum ended up marrying the bastard.

“You’re early.”

The words should be reprimanding, but Stephan sounds like a cat who got the cream.  
Or a wolf that caught its prey.. Asa shivers.

“Well, so are you.” It sounds petty, even to his ears. Even more so when Stephan shakes his head, still amused.

“I have night shift today. But tell you what,” He starts walking towards him. Asa had never been alone with his step father before. He takes a step back and freezes up as his back touches the counter. Stephan doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him. “I won’t tell your mother if you don’t”

The kitchen counter is cold under his clammy hands. “Don’t tell her what?”

Stephan closes the remaining distance with a thrust of his hips and Asa can’t breathe. He knows what’s happening but his body hasn’t caught up with it. Something hard and hot is pressing up against his stomach.  
A spike of panic spurs him to shove the alpha off him, just enough to scramble away and grab a knife.  
Heart hammering, hands sweating enough to make his grip falter, he brandishes the dull kitchen knife.

“Don’t - Get the fuck away from me!”

“Such a dirty mouth for a sweet boy” He croons with the complete ease of a man who disarms criminals for a living. For a moment, Asa is sure he’ll come for him. The knife is shaking in his grasp. Then, his stepfather turns and simply walks out. Leaving Asa in stunned silence.

When his mum comes home, Stephan greets her with a kiss. Asa stays in his room.

 

————————

 

He does get detention. That in itself is not surprising. What’s surprising is that Callo is there with him. The soft spoken blond is the only other omega he knows that shares classes with him. Demure and eager to please, Callo is everything they say a well behaved omega should be. Asa hates him for that.  
So why is Mr Pretty Please - goody two shoes doing in detention? Never one to keep questions to himself, Asa asks the teacher directly.

“What’s he here for?”

The supervising teacher sighs in the way all teachers seem to do. “Same as you, I suppose. Now sit down.”

“Same as me? He yelled at a teacher?”

The teacher gives him a look. It’s a look that says “stop talking”. Callo coughs, and Asa turns to see his blushing face.  
“I- um. I tried to follow you. And - And didn’t go back to class.”

“Follow me? Why -“

“Guys.” Mr Anders stands and slaps down a paper on the desk near Asa. “Shut up and do your detention.”

Asa doesn’t restrain himself from sticking out his tongue. Mr Anders was cool for a teacher.  
The rest of the detention goes uneventfully thanks to Asa holding back from causing another scene when he realises they’re forced to take a quiz on yesterday’s sex ed. It doesn’t stop him from answering all the questions rebelliously.

What are the effects of heat on an omega?  
Pain, loss of control, fearing for his safety, and wanting to die.

What are the effects of an omega’s heat on alphas?  
Being violent opportunistic dick heads.

What are pheromones?  
Things that affect your body against your will, yet will be ignored in court when used by an alpha against an omega for rape while the omega’s pheromones are blamed for his own rape. In short, a biological fuck you to omegas.

Clearly nursing a headache, Mr Anders doesn’t seem to notice when he turns it in and leaves.

 

“A-Asa!” The unmistakable stutter of Callo calls him in the hallway and Asa turns back to look at the boy hurrying towards him.

“What” Asa asks flatly. Callo blushes and starts to fidget under his stare. How little does it take to intimidate him, really?

“I - I just wanted to say -” He starts shakily, drawing a deep breath and rushing on. “I just wanted to say you were really brave when you stood up to what they were trying to say and you’re amazing and I think your hair is really pretty.”

Callo suddenly stops. Eyes wide and cheeks burning as red as Asa’s hair that he claims to admire. Admire! He admires him? Callo’s not the only one speechless at the moment. After a pause, Callo unfreezes and holds out a piece of paper and a pencil, freshly sharpened.

“Here” He squeaks. “You dropped them. Are you writing a poem? Not! Not that I meant to read it. Sorry, I mean -“

“Lyrics.” Asa interrupts, taking the items. “I was writing lyrics.”

“Oh!” Callo lights up. “You write songs? Were you going to use a Da Vinci quote?”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Inaction saps the vigour of the mind’. But it didn’t really fit.”

“Hm..” Callo’s pale eyebrows scrunch up in concentration. It’s surprising how expressive the usually modest boy is. “How about, ‘While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die’?”

Asa blinks. “That’s unexpectedly dark, coming from you.” Then he realises, he really doesn’t know anything about Callo, does he? “Hey, uh.. Do you wanna walk home with me?”

Callo beams and nods like Christmas came early.

 

Asa soon finds himself regretting his harsh judgement towards the likeable and obviously intelligent omega. Where he had assumed him to be meek and basic, Callo is passionate and bright. He likes reading and writing, and also dabbles in watercolour painting and photography. They compare their favourite music genres, and while Asa’s interests lie mostly in punk rock and metal and Callo’s in classical music, they find common interests in the softer genres of rock. All too soon their discussion of which Gorillaz song is better than a certain Blur song comes to an end as Asa’s house looms ahead. Asa clenches his hands. As the ease of conversation ebbs away, the unease of yesterday’s memory comes back. It’s getting harder and harder to find comfort in his own home.  
Just when he thought he’d finally settled in..

“Asa?”

“Yeah, this is my stop. You still got a ways to go?”

“Um, no. Well.. actually..” Callo starts fidgeting again. “It’s ah.. kinda the opposite way from where we came from.”

Asa gapes at him. “And you followed me all the way here anyway??”

Callo smiles bashfully. “I didn’t mind.. It was nice.”

Asa chews his lips and looks to his house again. His stepfather was probably resting after last night’s shift, and his mother would’ve left for her afternoon shift by now.. He doesn’t think Stephan would try anything if he invites Callo in for tea, but he doesn’t feel like pulling Callo along into the lion’s den either. He sighs and makes up his mind.

“Well, I’ll walk you to your house next time. It’s only fair, yeah?”

“Oh, okay. It was good talking to you. See you later, Asa.”

Callo skips away, apparently not tired after the walk. Asa watches him go for a moment before steeling himself and entering his house.


	2. Washed away with the tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New blood joins this Earth  
> And quickly he's subdued  
> Through constant pained disgrace  
> The young boy learns their rules  
> With time the child draws in  
> This whipping boy done wrong  
> Deprived of all his thoughts  
> The young man struggles on and on he's known  
> A vow unto his own  
> That never from this day  
> His will they'll take away
> 
> \- The Unforgiven // Metallica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed me comments. Literally any comment. A single "Fuck you" would suffice.  
> What can I say, I'm a whore for any fucks given.

His heart rate is picking up again. It’s okay - he says to himself. Just get to your room and lock the door.  
His steps are quiet as he cautiously peeks around on his way to the stairs. No one. He's not out here. Maybe he’s still sleeping, or maybe he’s gone out for food. The thought should give him relief, but the anxiety won’t go away. It feels as if there is a sense of foreboding in the air. It feels Wrong. The stairs creak slightly when he climbs them, but he grits his teeth and carry on. It’ll be over soon, just get to your room. The door is right there, embellished with “Keep Out” signs and a drawing of a red fox from his childhood.

He opens the door to his sanctuary and stops dead in his tracks. His relieved breath freezing in his lungs.  
Stephan is in his room, facing the little window beside his bed.

“Your room is a mess, Asa. Didn’t your mother tell you to clean it yesterday?”

He takes in a breath to reply, and it hits him. The air, the feeling, the _scent_. Pheromones.  
He’d never encountered it before since scent blockers are enforced by law, but he knows. He knows by the way the retort dies in his throat and comes out as the barest hint of a whimper. Stephan is looking at him in that insufferably self satisfied way that somehow makes him want to curl up in a ball and hide. No, he tries to tell himself sternly. He needs to stand strong. It’s hard to do so when he can’t even take a deep breath but he manages to choke out, “This is illegal.”

It doesn’t make the smirk go away. “Is it now? No, no. It’s just some left over scent from a shower. Completely acceptable. I’m wearing scent blockers now.. a little less than required, but an honest mistake. Hardly recognisable. Now..” 

Stephan reaches out towards him and Asa instinctually freezes and loses the chance to avoid the firm grip on his nape. Belatedly squirming, Asa tries to kick him in anger, but the low growl and sudden loss of smile from his step father is shocking enough for him to still.

“Good boy.”

The smile returns and Asa shivers as a thumb strokes him from where he is held.

“As I was saying, your mother and I agreed that you need some discipline in your life. And as your father and the alpha of this house, I am fit deliver it.”

“You’re not my-“

Stephan’s sudden manhandling cuts him off, and soon Asa finds himself in a horrifying position. Still held down by his nape, he’s lying sideways on his stomach over Stephan’s lap. The hand on his nape leaves, but is replaced by another around his throat before he can move.

“Now, I’m not unreasonable. You’ll get ten for the messy room, and an additional three for every time you use a dirty word. Gotta train you out of that nasty potty mouth, right?”

Asa almost misses his words while trying to pry away the constricting hand from his throat. “Ten of what?”

“Well what do naughty children get for misbehaving? They get spanked.”

Asa cries in indignation when he feels his pants getting pulled down. He thrashes at the first ‘Smack!’ of Stephan’s palm connecting with his flesh, but the tightening of the hand around his throat becomes unbearable. He can breathe, but somehow it’s not enough. He feels his vision darkening.

The grip loosens as his movement grows weaker, and oxygen rushes back to his head.

“See now, it’ll all be easier if you behave.”

“Fuck off you sick, piss stick pervert pedo - Ah!” Another smack.

“Three added, eleven left. Lets see how long it takes for you learn.”

It doesn’t take three slaps before Asa lets out another cuss word. Every time he struggles, the hand around his neck expertly cuts off his blood flow, ‘causing him to grow faint. He’d even tried biting, but the following strikes that earned him made him regret it instantly. The strength and intervals of the strikes keep changing, leaving him feeling unprepared and anxious.

“Eight left. We’ll be here forever if you don’t smarten up.”

“Sh- nn..” Struggling for a comeback without adding more strikes to the humiliating experience, he settles for threats.

“I’ll - ah! I’ll kill you! I’ll fu- hng.. I swear I’ll Kill you!”

Stephan’s hand rubs his reddened buttock soothingly, and while it disgusts him he can’t help but feel a small amount of relief. Until a finger digs into his hole.

“You should watch yourself while I’m playing nice, Asa.” Stephan tells him him over his unintelligible yelling and flailing. The voice is low, but Asa still hears the implicit threat clearly. He stills himself with a shuddering, mortifying sob.  
The finger leaves and the spanking resumes. It pains him to admit he’s now actually relieved to receive the lesser of evils.

By the time Stephan releases him and pushes him off his lap, Asa has gone silent.

“I think we’ve made a progress today.” His stepfather says, cheerily stepping over him. “I expect your room to be clean by tomorrow night.”

 

That night, he sleeps with the door locked and the window open. The lingering scent of alpha and the still messy state of his room keeps him awake long after midnight. When he hears his mother enter the house, he finally closes his eyes.

 

————————

 

Asa resists the urge to throw down the guitar in aggravation. He’d never hurt his baby, and besides it’s not really His baby. The rightful parent of the instrument in his hands looks at him with concern. It looks sickeningly genuine. Why do some people have to be so sloppy with their emotions? It’s disgusting.

“What?” He snaps.

Michael holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Nothing, It’s just.. you seem a little distracted today. And you missed practice twice.”

“I suck, is what you’re saying.”

“No! I mean, you’re usually better than this, sure. But you’re brilliant.”

Asa huffs out, starting to pace. “I Am brilliant. Brilliant as lead vocal. Not that Wood would give that position up. No, he’d insist on squealing like a pig choking on a mike when -“

It seems the whole universe is screwing him over today when he stubs his toe on the amplifier.

“FUCK ME Ya Minging knob polishin wallop!“

Michael politely smothers his laughter. It doesn’t ingratiate him with Asa one bit.

“Just have patience. You’ll get to sing one day. You’ve got the talent.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re alpha. You have the opportunity, arse wide open.”

“I know it’s frustrating, but the only way we can get you into the band is as a second guitarist or a drummer.”

“As if I don’t know..” He’d tried to make a band on his own, but the truth was that no one wants an omega as lead vocal. And the other omegas were simply not interested in joining a rock band. Pansies.. he mutters despite himself. How could he convince the world an omega can lead when every other omega is as docile as a spayed sheep?

He keeps thinking back to yesterday. How could he not? It’s been on his mind all day. Rage fills him up all over again. Here he is preaching rebellion, yet he let himself be walked all over and pissed on, metaphorically speaking.  
No, he won’t let any shit bag try and ‘discipline’ him ever again.

“Have a nice day.”

“Huh?”

“Bon Jovi.”

With that, Michael is left scrambling to pick up his Bass as Asa strikes the first cords.

_Why, you wanna tell me how to live my life?_  
_Who, are you to tell me if it's black or white?_  
_Mama, can you hear me? Try to understand_  
_Is innocence the difference between a boy and a man?_  
_My daddy lived the lie, that's just the price that he paid_  
_Sacrificed his life, just slaving away_

He doesn’t remember the ‘dads’ from the houses he’d been passed around in, and there were no male adults in the orphanage apart from a few omegas. But he remembers Gabriel Cavendish. Kind and encouraging, the only man he accepted as a father before he went and died after just three years of knowing him. He remembers the day they received the news. It was just like any other day. Then a call came and mum started crying. He was nine.

_Ohhh, if there's one thing I hang onto_  
_That gets me through the night_  
_I ain't gonna do what I don't want to_  
_I'm gonna live my life_  
_Shining like a diamond, rolling with the dice_  
_Standing on the ledge, I show the wind how to fly_  
_When the world gets in my face_  
_I say, have a nice day_  
_Have a nice day_

Difficult child. That’s what they used to call him. Crazy bitch. That’s what they call him now. If that’s what they’re going to call him for saying no, then so be it.

_Take a look around you. Nothing's what it seems._  
_We're living in the broken home of hopes and dreams._  
_Let me be the first to shake a helping hand_  
_Of anybody brave enough to take a stand._  
_I've knocked on every door on every dead-end street_  
_Looking for forgiveness and what's left to believe?_

Will anyone take a stand? Somewhere, in some home, someone is bound to have it worse than him. Where are they, and how can he help them?

The song loops back into chorus and Asa pours all his anger and defiance into it. Singing is one thing he absolutely loves in his life. And the one thing he’s undeniably great in his life. His grades are really not the best, and he while may have good musculature and strength for an omega, he can’t compete with alphas. It’s when he’s singing that he feels truly powerful. All the emotion and energy buzzing inside him bursting out in perfect pitch.  
It’s his battle cry.

 

————————

 

“Hi, mum!”

It’s a relief to come home to his mother and no one else. He could almost pretend nothing has changed as he receives a plate of warm crumpets with the usual warning to “go easy on the butter”.  
But things have changed. When their shifts align in a way that’ll leave him alone with his stepfather, Asa will have to find a way to defend himself. He’ll never feel safe again. He has to tell her..  
It’s much harder than he had expected. After a lot of pausing and chewing, he decides to just spill the news.

“Stephan hit me.”

He can’t say ‘spank’. He’s not eight anymore. And he can’t say ‘molest’. He just.. can’t. He hoped it was enough, but his heart sinks at the critical look his adoptive mother gives him.

“It’s called corporal punishment, Asa. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, but we agreed you need a bit of discipline in your life.”

Asa feels cold all over. It takes a moment to regain speech, and even when does, all that comes out is a stuttering “But-“.

“He didn’t punch you or anything, right? He’s not someone who’d do such things.”

“He hit me on the butt!” That sounded stupider than he expected, and he’s further horrified when his mother smiles in amusement. “And he strangled me!” He quickly adds.

His mum actually sighs in exasperation. “Stephan told me he had to restrain you a little in self defence when you tried to hit him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

Asa is shaking now. There’s one thing left to say that might change her mind, but he can’t bear to admit it. Can’t bear to say it when even that might be dismissed as an overreaction. He simply pushes away from the table and stomps to his room before he can burst into tears.

 

There’s a rattle on his locked bedroom door and he tenses, blanket twisting in his grasp. He still hasn’t cleaned his room out of defiance, but as much as he hates to admit it, it terrifies him. He doesn’t want to go through that ordeal again. Asa prays that the man would just leave him alone for the night.

“What is it, Stephan?” He hears the muffled sound of his mother calling out as she prepares to leave for her shift.

“Asa’s locked the door.” The hated voice of his stepfather answers. A moment later, there’s a sharp rap at his door.

“Asa! We do Not lock our rooms in this house!” His mother says sternly. A moment of silence. “Asa, open the door at once!”

He sighs and grudgingly unlocks the door. “What’s your deal..” He mutters, trying not to make eye contact. Trying not to look nervous.

Light floods into the room, and his shameful disobedience, his petty defiance is laid bare to their eyes. His mother looks disappointed, and his stepfather manages not to smirk. The double pressure isn’t good for Asa’s will, and he caves.

“It’s not midnight yet..” He mutters.

“Well then, you better start cleaning now!”

It’s easier when it’s his mum telling him what to do, so he gladly takes the excuse.

He locks the door when his mother leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael's based on my ex... They have the same surname..  
> Yeah, I drew a lot from my experience when writing this, but no worries. Never had anything as bad as poor Asa here.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a practice write because I got stuck on my cyoa game, God Forsaken.  
> Now I want to see it finished.


End file.
